


Never Too Late

by Johnlockforthewin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Violence, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1291105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlockforthewin/pseuds/Johnlockforthewin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lestrade shows John an old video of Sherlock, John realizes he knows nothing of Sherlock's past. As he learns, he isn't sure he wants to anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work from about a year ago. I wanted to put it on here to see how it will be received. Please comment to tell me if I should continue to post chapters. The chapters get longer as the story goes. Also, this is a song-fic, so all songs belong to Three Days Grace. And Sherlock does not belong to me.
> 
> ^^

John and Sherlock were at a crime scene when John found it. Lestrade had called him over so they could go out for drinks after the case.

So, when everything was wrapped up, John got in the car with Lestrade.

"Hey, Greg. I thought we were going to the pub?" John asked as he saw they were pulling into Scotland Yard.

"Yeah, we can do that later; I want to show you something."

When they got to Lestrade's office, Lestrade smirked when he saw Sally and Anderson were in the room with a DVD player.

"…Um, what's this then?"

"I was searching through some things that Sherlock left at my flat and I found this," Lestrade said, holding up a disc in a see-through case with a sharpie-scrawled title 'Do Not Watch.'

"When was Sherlock at your flat?" John asked.

"Oh, ages ago; when I first met him he was high as a kite and so I let him kip on the couch for a night. Unfortunately, one night eventually became a week; then he was gone. His stuff was still there, so I left it for, like, a month or something but he never showed, so I binned some of it and I just sorta stuffed the rest under the couch." Lestrade took a breath. "Which brings us to today, when I decided to clean up my flat."

John nodded minutely and asked, "So what's the disc?"

"Oh, that," Lestrade turned around and grabbed it off the table beside where Sally and Anderson were plugging things in to watch the disc, "is a video somebody—I don't know who—took of a concert. Some unknown band. Really good, but I've heard they only used their money for coke. Anyway, you need to watch it; and look at the lead guitarist."

"Couldn't you've used a laptop?" John asked. Lestrade didn't reply, but simply started then video.

John watched as the screen became less fuzzy as the camera stilled. A boy walked on the stage in the video and began saying, "So, hey. We don't really have a band name, but I 'ope you like the music." The boy had a slight cockney accent. He was average height, had light brown hair, just long enough to be over the tops of his eyes. His build was similar to that of a rugby player. He had no piercings; unlike the others on stage.

John's eye caught movement on the right side if the screen. Realizing it was the lead guitarist, he paid close attention.

Oh.

_Oh…_

It was  _Sherlock._

 


	2. It's All Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are, a second chapter!
> 
> ^^

Sherlock looked over to where David was telling the crowd they didn't have a name. The only reason he was in this stupid band was because he was promised cocaine for his efforts; which were a lot considering he wrote the lyrics to almost all the songs. Unfortunately, that meant David expected him to sing as well.

As he stood there holding the black guitar, he thought about the rush he was anticipating.

The first time he had tried cocaine he was only 16. Now he was 18. It seemed like such a short time to him; it was not like anything has happened to him over the past two years. He smiled slightly at the fact that Mycroft was yet to find him. But his smile vanished as he realised that Mycroft wasn't even looking for him anymore. It wasn't like he cared, but every child deserves to be loved at least a little; by anyone if not their parents.

Sherlock shook his head, scattering those thoughts, as he saw that David was counting them in. Sherlock forgot the song they were doing first, so started playing and decided not to care if it was the right one or not.

After the guitar intro, Sherlock began singing.

_"Your bottle's almost empty,_   
_you know this can't go on._   
_Because of you my mind is always racing._   
_The needle breaks in your skin,_   
_the story's sinking in,_   
_and now you trip begins 'cause it's all over for, it's all over for_

_"You_   
_For you_   
_When you're on the edge and falling off,_   
_it's all over._

_"I know what runs through your blood,_   
_you do this all in vain._   
_Because if you my mind is always racing._   
_And it gets under my skin,_   
_to see you giving in,_   
_and now you trip begins 'cause it's all over for, it's all over for_

_"You_   
_For you_   
_When you're on the edge and falling off,_   
_it's all over for you_   
_for you_   
_when you're on the edge and falling off it's all over for_

_"And now you're dead inside,_   
_still you wonder why_   
_you're on the edge and falling off it's all over for_

_"You, for you._   
_It's all over for you."_

As Sherlock finished the song, the audience began clapping. To Sherlock, music of this genre was obnoxious and brain-damaging. He preferred classical. His mother had made him learn violin starting at age five. And although Sherlock wanted to be childish and spite his mummy, he quickly fell in love with his instrument.

Not like Mycroft, who couldn't play (because his fingers were too fat for the keys, Sherlock had summarised.)


	3. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters are short, but this was written 2 years ago, when I was 13. So I have evolved as a writer and this is not my best work. But I hope you enjoy.
> 
> ^^

  
"S'a good song," Lestrade said as the song from the player finished. John nodded absently; he was entranced by the singer/guitarist. His hair was just long enough to be considered shaggy, he was obviously far too skinny for his height, his cheekbones looked as if they could sliced through the thin skin of his pale face, and when he looked up, John almost flinched at his eyes. Blue and silver swirling in a storm of sadness; an underlying tone of anger, and hurt. The plain black t-shirt he wore hung loosely on his lanky frame, emphasising his slim torso. One thing that John also noticed was that he looked utterly bored.  _Definitely Sherlock,_  John thought.  


The bassist started talking about who wrote the lyrics. "All but one of these songs is written by our lead guitarist, SH!"

As Sherlock looked up from his staring contest with the floor, he saw someone, who he approached and then returned to the stage with a lit cigarette. As the next song started with the bassist singing, Sherlock dropped the fag and began playing guitar again, soon joining in singing.

_"Pain,_  
 _without love._  
 _Pain,_  
 _Can't get enough._  
 _Pain,_  
 _I like it rough,_  
 _'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all."_

Sherlock was the only one singing during the parts not the chorus.

_"You're sick,_  
 _of feelin' numb,_  
 _You're not_  
 _the only one._  
 _I'll take_  
 _you by the hand_  
 _and I'll show you world that you can understand._  
 _This life,_  
 _is filled with hurt_  
 _when happiness,_  
 _doesn't work._  
 _Trust me,_  
 _and take my hand._  
 _When the lights go out,_  
 _you'll understand."_

As the chorus started up again, Sherlock was playing the guitar more enthusiastically.

_"Pain,_  
 _without love._  
 _Pain,_  
 _Can't get enough._  
 _Pain,_  
 _I like it rough,_  
 _'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all._  
 _Pain,_  
 _without love._  
 _Pain,_  
 _Can't get enough._  
 _Pain,_  
 _I like it rough,_  
 _'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all."_

Sherlock's hair was bouncing as he jumped slightly with the music. John thought about the lyrics, and the fact that Sherlock wrote them. It was really sad to see all the hurt that he had gone through.  _I can't even imagine what he must've been like when he was alone,_ John thought.

_"Anger_  
 _and agony_  
 _are better_  
 _than misery._  
 _Trust me_  
 _I've got a plan_  
 _When the lights go out,_  
 _you'll understand."_

There were more lyrics that John absentmindedly tuned out as he watched a single tear form in Sherlock's eye. John's heart broke a little at the fact that Sherlock probably meant every word he sang. He felt that pain was better. He just wanted to feel; and pain was the only way to do that.

_"Pain,_  
 _without love._  
 _Pain,_  
 _Can't get enough._  
 _Pain,_  
 _I like it rough,_  
 _'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all._

_"I'd rather feel_  
 _PAIN."_


End file.
